


hateship, loveship

by freshwoods



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Fluff and Smut, Hatesex, Idiots in Love, Inappropriate use of a desk, M/M, Professors, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-12
Updated: 2019-01-12
Packaged: 2019-10-08 17:32:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,210
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17390642
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/freshwoods/pseuds/freshwoods
Summary: Bucky and Steve are professors from rival departments forced to work on a project together. There might be some hate sex.





	hateship, loveship

It starts with a simple argument. They’d been assigned to work on the pilot STEM/Humanities class by their respective departments--Professor James Barnes by the Science department and Professor Steven Rogers by the English department--and neither man was very happy about the placement. Especially not James--Bucky to his friends (the name which Steve insisted on calling him once he found out at a committee meeting years ago and that irked Bucky to no end because he didn’t even _like_ the guy let alone give him permission to use Bucky’s nickname). And Steve was definitely not his friend. In fact, Steve was the very bane of Bucky’s academic existence. He made sure to tell him--in depth and often--just what he thought of Steve’s opinions. (“Of _course_ Frankenstein broke the Hippocratic Oath, why are we even discussing this. Did you even _read_ the book?”--and then Steve’s rebuttal of “I’m just saying, in my experience, med students think the rules don’t apply to them. Have you even _seen_ the essays your students turn in? It’s appalling.” Bucky was too offended after that particular exchange to speak to the man for the rest of their meeting.)

Yep, he hated just about everything about Steve--except maybe for those rare moments when he rode Bucky like his life depended on it, head thrown back, biting his lip to keep the sounds at bay like he did now. The soft light from the curtained windows in Steve’s office filtering in made Steve’s skin appear to glow, made him look like some ethereal creature, the muscles of his stomach contracting each time he lifted himself up and down onto Bucky’s cock, his thighs shaking with the effort when Bucky finally decided to have some mercy on him and move his hips up, meeting Steve thrust for thrust.

God, was he glad Steve was pretentious enough to have one of those huge, solid mahogany desks taking up most of the square footage of his office. Because, damn did they need every inch of it for the kinds of things Bucky wanted to do to Steve every time he opened his goddamned smart mouth. Most of his thoughts in the beginning bordered on violence, but then one time he’d caught Steve smirking at him after riling him up about an asinine point that had absolutely nothing to do with the actual conversation at hand, and Bucky had had it, pushing the other professor back against the wall of bookshelves. He wasn’t intimidated by the size of the other man--by the way his eyes glimmered, the breadth of his shoulders as books clattered from the shelf onto the floor--or by the way Steve’s breath caught just a little as Bucky leaned in to crush their mouths together in a kiss as hot as his temper.

Everything after that had kind of spiralled out of control. He only faintly remembered franticly undressing each other--questing hands, biting fingers, the way Steve’s naked back looked as he bent over his desk, arm outstretched, pushing everything atop it to scatter onto the floor before grabbing Bucky and pushing him onto the desk so hard the breath was knocked out of him when his back hit it--and then knocked out of him once again when Steve straddled Bucky’s hips and wrapped a hand around both of their cocks, making Bucky come embarrassingly quick at the feel of Steve against him.

That had been the first time. Bucky wished he could say it was the only time, but he’d be kidding himself if he didn’t admit he at least liked the way Steve was so bent on turning each time they fucked into a competition of who could make who come first. And Steve played dirty. He used every trick he could think of to get to Bucky--their fucking like a physical debate, each trying to outdo the other, until one of them (Bucky liked to believe it was himself, more often than not) finally pushed the other over the edge.

Bucky couldn’t help that he kind of liked the way Steve’s face got all slack and soft when he came, when he’d moan “Bucky” in that way that always somehow managed to get under Bucky’s skin, to make his heart stutter, to make it easier than it had any right to be to just let himself follow Steve over that same edge. He also maybe liked other small things about Steve--like the curve of his ass, or the way his lips looked wrapped around Bucky’s cock.

But mostly, he liked him just like this--those rare moments when the competitive facade finally fell away and Bucky could see the real Steve underneath; the Steve who gave himself over to Bucky, who looked at him with lust-blown eyes and kiss-swollen lips as he rode Bucky fast and hard, his hands against Bucky’s chest for leverage, Bucky’s own gripping hard at his hips--looking at him with the spark of something else underneath (the same something he sometimes got when they would grab a quick bite to eat together at the diner across from campus). Bucky couldn’t tell exactly what it was, but it made him hold onto Steve tighter, made him chase that look with his hands and mouth and the slide of his skin against Steve’s. He flipped them over, Steve letting out a loud huff as his back slammed against the desk, but Bucky was quick to silence him with another kiss, with the tilt of his hips and the angle of his cock dragging against Steve’s prostate with every thrust. He lifted one of Steve’s legs, hooking his elbow under Steve’s knee to get deeper, to try to fuck that look into his face once more.

Steve whimpered, loud in the claustrophobic room, but Bucky liked the sound. He wanted to hear more of them, wanted to hear how Steve would sound when he finally let himself go--maybe one of these times they could fuck somewhere besides his stuffy office--but until then, Bucky made it his mission to hear as many of those noises as he could. He leaned down to kiss at Steve’s neck--careful to keep it low enough it wouldn’t show above one of those infuriatingly crisp white button-ups Steve insisted on wearing beneath every argyle sweater known to man. He still couldn’t believe Steve chose to cover himself in so many layers and soft sweaters.

But he also couldn’t complain that he was the one who got to see just what Steve hid underneath. And he was man enough to admit that even though he disliked Steve often, he at least had some redeeming qualities. He wasn’t _completely_ useless anyway. And he kind of did know his shit at the end of the day. He wasn’t the best partner for this program Bucky could have gotten stuck with but he’s probably not the worst--as far as English faculty went, anyway.

Steve moaned Bucky’s name, the other man’s hands coming up to stroke up Bucky’s back and tangle into his hair. Bucky hummed against Steve’s skin, a hand of his own reaching between their bodies to wrap around Steve’s cock. Steve whimpered and Bucky smiled against Steve’s sweat-slicked skin. He loved the sound of his name on Steve’s lips--the quiet desperation, the soft reverency, the underlying need and want that was only for him, as if Bucky were the only one who could reduce Steve to a moaning, whimpering mess of a man.

It was a nice thought. One Bucky hadn’t entertained before. He gave it a thought now--was surprised by the fact that he didn’t mine--was even more surprised by the fact that some small (or maybe not so small) part of him actually _wanted_ ~~~~that--wanted to be the only one who got to see Steve like this. He couldn’t stand the thought of someone else touching him like this, kissing him, running their hands over the same skin that Bucky secretly loved; someone else fucking Steve, leaving their marks on him just like Bucky did.

Suddenly it was too much, Bucky too desperate to cling to the idea of this--whatever their odd hateship was--that he needed to see that look on Steve’s face--that spark of something that only came in glimpses when he thought Bucky wasn’t looking or when he finally let his guard down during sex. He tightened his hand around Steve, moving his mouth up to the other man’s ear to whisper, “Come on, baby.”

The sound Steve made shook Bucky to his core--the little catch in his breath, the way he made such a small sound in his throat like he’d been punched, his eyes finding Bucky’s as Bucky moved back--and there it was. Bucky tightened his hand around Steve’s cock, fucking him harder, faster, chasing his own release. They came at the same time, Bucky biting his lip to muffle his sounds as he watched Steve come undone. Steve’s mouth was open in some sort of silent sound, his eyes scanning Bucky’s face, cheeks flushed, hair mussed. He looked beautiful. He looked lovely.

He looked just like everything Bucky never knew he wanted. Bucky had a sudden urge to want to see Steve look like this everyday--to wake up to this expression every morning, go to sleep with it being the last image he saw. He wanted to spend his days seeking this look out from Steve, wanted to always see this expression on the face of the man he loved.

It took a moment for Bucky’s brain to catch up with his thoughts and when they did, everything inside of him came to a screaming halt. He stopped moving completely, freezing in place.

Steve’s expression morphed into something more concerned. “Bucky? You okay?” He asked in a wrecked voice. Bucky just shook his head, not sure what to say, not sure how to navigate these strange thoughts and feelings. Steve tugged at Bucky’s hair, pulling him into a disarming kiss that made some of the tension seep out of Bucky’s muscles. Slowly, he relaxed back into Steve’s kiss.

When Bucky finally pulled away, he felt as though something riotous had settled down inside of him. He looked at Steve--that damned expression back on the other man’s face--and said as casually as he dared. “We should go on a date sometime.”

Steve’s eyebrows drew together in confusion and Bucky cursed his bad timing. He was suddenly viscerally aware of the fact that they were naked atop Steve’s sturdy desk, his cock still buried in Steve’s ass--and Bucky was asking him on a date--leaving Steve not exactly in the position to turn him down.

Bucky opened his mouth to apologize, but Steve beat him to it. “I thought we decided on Wednesday we were going out after work tomorrow?”

Bucky nodded. “Well, yeah, but I mean like a date-date.” Bucky got up on one elbow to look down at Steve. This was not at all how he expected Steve to react.

At least, not until Steve rolled his eyes at Bucky and pulled him back down against his chest. “Like you’re finally gonna take me on a date someplace other than that cheap dive bar? I’ll believe it when I see it. Not like I’ve been trying to get you to take me somewhere else for weeks now, or anything…”

Bucky frowned, caught off guard by the nonchalance in which Steve spoke and even more caught off guard by his words and the fact that there was not even a note of deceit to them. Bucky frowned, thinking back on the last couple weeks. He remembered Steve making comments, now that he thought about it, but he’d dismissed them as Steve’s usual level of ornery. But now that he thought about it… Steve had been...different these last few weeks. Ever since Bucky casually suggested they go together to get a drink one night after having a surprisingly productive meeting to work on the curriculum for the program.

“Oh my god,” Bucky realized it suddenly. “Are we _dating_ __?”

Steve simply looked at Bucky for a long moment, his gaze searching, before his face once again softened into that look that Bucky couldn’t quite place. He thought he might understand it a little bit better now though. “Of course. We have been all month.”

Bucky once again lifted up to his elbow to look down at Steve. He needed what little distance he could get at the moment while his heart kicked into overdrive and his mind took a moment to shut completely down. “A _month_? Why didn’t you tell me?” Bucky’s voice raised in disbelief.

“Oh my god!” Steve let the exasperation seep into his voice as he snapped, “I’m in love with an idiot!”

And oh--Bucky wasn’t expecting that. He stilled once more, everything suddenly fitting into place. He smiled down at Steve. “Wait...you love me?” Steve’s cheeks colored into a lovely crimson that made Steve look faintly like a tomato, but Bucky thought it was the most endearing thing he’d ever seen. “Good, because I think I just might love you, too.”

**Author's Note:**

> Follow me on [ tumblr](https://freshwoods.tumblr.com/)!


End file.
